In Your Wildest Dreams (41 page)

He shook his head. "I'm sorry—not cussin' at
you.
Just figured somethin' out. Maybe somethin' important."

He couldn't be sure—but in another way, he thought,
How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought Tina was using her real name all this time?
Of course, Tony had never suggested she might be using another name, either—but lots of escorts did. Hookers, strippers—they needed pretty, sexy-sounding names; it was part of what they were selling. Misti. Tawney. Bambi. All girls he knew from Chez Sophia and he was pretty sure they hadn't been using those names since birth.

Tina
was awful damn close to
Tiana.
And he happened to know
Les Couleurs
belonged to a guy named Robert Nicholson, a whiskey sour who wasn't a regular at Sophia's, but he wasn't a rarity, either. One more middle-aged married guy who paid for it on the side. What if he was buying it from Stephanie's sister?

More than that, Nicholson was on the list of guys Tony thought might have a link to Typhoeus. Tony was watching some others more closely—since they suspected drugs were being siphoned through the third floor, it made sense to look at the regulars. But Nicholson made the list because he had more money than he should—too big a house and too nice a deluxe cabin cruiser on Lake Pontchartrain and one too many vacation homes in places like Vail and Palm Beach. He owned the upscale dress shop and had some real estate investments, but he seemed like a guy who was doing way too well. And if Jake remembered correctly, Nicholson also had a conviction for possession on his record. He'd been found with an ounce of coke when he was fresh out of college twenty-some years ago. It wasn't much, but it showed the guy wasn't adverse to drugs.

"What's so important?" Shondra asked.

"I'm just wondering if your Tiana could possibly
be
my Tina." He set down his plate. "I'll be back in a minute. Need to make a phone call." He'd nearly reached the kitchen when he turned back to point to the mutt. "And
don't
let that dog eat my burger."

Stephanie stood before the mirror in her room wearing the last of the sexy dresses she'd bought when she'd decided to search for Tina by pretending she was an escort. This dress was more casual than the others—sleeveless with a collar and buttons down the front, super short, and made of stretchy black fabric that hugged every curve. She wore a black push-up bra that thrust her breasts together for maximum cleavage, and she'd unbuttoned the dress to a point below her chest so that the bra showed in the center. Around her neck she wore a black choker, from her ear-lobes hung large silver hoops. Tightly curled hair, black strappy heels, and too much makeup completed the look.

She knew she was supposed to stay put and let Jake find her sister, but for all she knew, he was still out on the bayou—wasting time. And she'd wasted enough damn time with him, time that could have been spent scouring the streets for Tina. Besides, she hadn't promised him today when he'd insisted. And as for promises—who really cared? The way she saw it, Jake's eyes had made promises to
her.
His kisses and his hands had delivered promises as well. Broken ones.

What did she want with a guy like him anyway? He was so screwed up inside that he clearly didn't know
what
he wanted. And his demons were just too big for her to slay. She supposed maybe she'd started thinking she was doing that, wiping out the things that haunted him—but now she knew she'd been nothing more than a pleasant diversion.

You wanted an affair, Stephanie. A lover. Well, you got 'em. Congratulations.

Part of her would always be grateful for the joys Jake had opened her to—but another part of her wished she'd never laid eyes on him. Life had been easier before she'd known true desire, back when it had just been a vague, distant memory of something she'd experienced when she was young and naive. Even now, her body pulsed with need, wishing like crazy Jake would walk through her door and take her into his arms.

But only if he loved her, too.

She couldn't,
wouldn't,
be a fool for him. She couldn't go back to merely wanting sex from Jake—now it was love or nothing, unfortunately.

And it looked like nothing had won, hands down.

"Bastard," she bit off through clenched teeth.

Deep inside, she was unsure if she had the right to hold him responsible for her feelings—but it was easier that way. She hadn't cried since she'd hit U.S. 10 late this morning, where she'd dried her eyes and vowed it was time to move on, time to find Tina and take her home where they both belonged. And to hope she never crossed the path of Jake Broussard—her lover, the man she'd fallen in love with—ever again.

She shut her eyes against the pain of that love.
Don't feel it. Don '
t
feel
it.

Soon you can go back to your old life, your old self.

God knew that had been easier—boring dates, tedious sex, and all.

For now, though, you have to look for Tina again. You have to pretend again to be this thing you're not. Feel it. Be it.

To her surprise, that sounded a hell of a lot easier than it had been the first time, back before Jake. Now the rush of sensuality—the feel of the bra tight against her breasts, the awareness of the black thong under her dress—felt as normal as breathing. She'd worn the new panties, figuring that if she was going to feign being an escort again, she might as well. After tonight, she planned to drop them in the trash.

She called a cab and scooped up a little black purse, Melody's list inside.

I'm going to find her tonight. I have to.

The cab was due in less than five minutes, so she started toward the door, but stopped. She glanced back at the Victoria's Secret shopping bag next to the desk phone.

What if you don't find her? What if, instead, you find Jake? What if he discovers you're up to your old tricks again and this time refuses to help you for good?
She liked to think she could do this on her own, but in the end, if she failed, she had only him and Tony to turn to. "Damn it," she muttered.

She walked to the desk and, against her better judgment, dialed Jake. If he was back in town, she'd give him a heads-up—that simple. If not, she didn't have to worry about being seen.

"Hello."

She closed her eyes as his deep voice melted through her. The voice of someone who was
supposed
to be in her fife, but who had become a stranger—Jake was the stranger who'd made love to her just this morning. "I'm going to look for Raven in the CBD if you want to go." "The hell you are."

"Try and stop me. If you want to go along, I'm starting at a bar called Antonio's, on Magazine Street. It's on Melody's list."

"Are you fuckin' crazy, Stephanie? Do you want some lowlife to attack you?"

She took a deep breath and spoke very calmly. "I want to find my sister. Once and for all. So I can get the hell out of this city."

On the other end, he issued a long, tired sigh. "Just keep a low profile 'til I get there."

Chapter 23

He
'd called Tony about the possible Nicholson link. They'd been friends long enough that an angry conversation didn't have to be discussed afterward, so they hadn't alluded to their earlier talk—and Tony agreed the idea about Nicholson held merit. He'd said the problem would be tracking the guy down to question him about whether he knew Tina. Nicholson owned the boutique, but he didn't work there on a regular basis—he didn't exactly work
anywhere
on a regular basis.

"Now that I think about it, it makes the guy seem even more suspicious," Tony had said. "Even so, I don't have any cause—drug-related or otherwise—to go knocking on his door at home and interrogating him. If you really think this holds water, though, you might consider staking out his house, following him around for a couple of days and seeing where he goes." Since Tony couldn't do it, being a cop—but Jake could.

And he might just do that, but at the moment he was back to the drawing board in the CBD with Stephanie, who sat at the bar in Antonio's looking like a woman to be bedded. She was less high-class escort now and more hooker-too-beautiful-for-her-surroundings. Even a more dangerous disguise, which made him glad he'd come. He couldn't bear the thought of her going out like that without him there to look out for her.

At least she was quietly sipping her drink, not talking to anyone. He took the vacant stool beside her. 'This is what you're wearin'7'

She raised a solemn gaze, her eyes outlined in black, her lashes long, her
lips
wet and red. "I dressed down. Now that we're not in the high-priced area anymore, I thought I might fit in better." She gave him a once-over.
"This
is what
you 're
wearing?"

He had on a dark blue button-down shirt, black pants. "/ dressed
up.
Figured I had to look like a guy who could afford you if I'm gonna be hangin' with you." His skin prickled with her nearness and his heart beat too fast.

But you have to ignore that now.

No, not just
now.
From now on. Like he'd told her, they
had
to be over. He couldn't deal with the guilt of caring for someone else this soon. Sometimes he felt like Becky had died just yesterday. He couldn't have Stephanie anymore.

"What'11 you have?" a young bartender with a scruffy beard and an earring stepped up to ask him.

"Bud Light."

The bartender uncapped the bottle, setting it on the bar. Beside him, Stephanie twirled her finger through a lock of hair, tilting her head slightly. "Know a working girl named Raven?" she asked the bartender in a soft, sexy voice. The guy's attention riveted on her.

Damn, she was better at this than Jake had thought.

The guy shook his head. "Don't think so, sweetheart, but check with the girls at the other end of the bar. They get around a lot." He winked and she thanked him, and Jake just looked at her. "What?"

"Nothin'," he groused.

"Who's going to ask them—me or you?"

"I'll do it." He didn't even particularly like the idea of her associating with prostitutes anymore. He stood up, grabbing his beer to take with him. "Don't talk to anybody while I'm gone."

"And if somebody talks to
me
?
She blinked, clearly irritated. "You'll be ten steps away."

She made a good point and he was too tied in knots by her to refute it. He just headed down to the girls in question, who were dressed a lot
l
ike
Stephanie—but none of them could hold a candle to her. "Evenin', ladies."

They all perked up, stopping their conversations. A blonde stock her chest out and a tall brunette said, "Hi, honey. Looking for some fun?"

He tried for a sheepish smile. "Actually, I'm
...
lookin' for a couple of particular ladies, and I was hopin' you girls might know where I could find 'em. Names are Tiana and Raven. Met 'em both here a few months back and they said they stock to the CBD most of the time, if I ever wanted to get with either one of 'em again."

All four girls in the group exchanged looks, and Jake thought,
Pay dirt.

Finally, the blonde spoke. "We haven't seen Tiana for a long time. And as for Raven, she's
...
uh
...
down on her luck right now." She lifted a hand to his shirt collar. "But
I'll
take real good care of you."

He sighed, trying to be patient, then dug for more information. "Raven's down on her luck how? 'Cause I'd like to help her out—if you can tell me where she is."

The tall girl sighed. "Look, Raven's on the street, man. Used to share a place with some girls we know, but they kicked her out. She's in a bad way."

Merde.
"Any idea where she might be?"

She shrugged. "Sure, honey, but why would you want
her
when you could have one of
us
?"

"I just
...
need to find her." Time to pull out more ammunition. "It'd be worth fifty bucks to me if you can point me in the right direction."

At the mention of cash, both girls started to answer, but the blonde got the words out quicker. "Up at the projects, near St. Louis Number One." The city's oldest cemetery. "She can score drugs for tricks there. Probably a real mess, though."